Harry case
by cedricsowner
Summary: Title pretty much says it all. Harry is in trouble, guess who has to help him out? Following tree979's great new prompts in the discussion forum. Please try them, too! They're fun! One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.**

"Harry, trust me, you want to sit in the back." Chance tried his most reasonable voice. _"As far from Guerrero as possible"_, he added silently.

"But I called shotgun!", Harry insisted.

Sigh.

"Why don't we save Guerrero time and energy to find an excuse and put him in the trunk right away?", Winston muttered under his breath.

"Who says I need an excuse?", Guerrero chimed in.

"Guys, nobody deserves to ride in the trunk unless there's some _really _good reason for it."

"Such as…?"

"Getting on _my _nerves."

Ten minutes later Harry was riding in the trunk.

… … …

"I never exactly promised this would be a piece of cake job!", Harry coughed, pulling at his ties and of course tightening them even more in the process.

"_Walk in the park_, Harry, and _piece of cake_ are synonyms!", Winston thundered.

"You are a bit cranky today, aren't you?"

To Winston's great relief (though he would've never admitted it), Guerrero managed to lose his ties. Great. Now all they needed to do was find a way out of this room before the thugs came back.

And free Chance.

And get the damn memory stick the whole thing was about.

But Guerrero looked like he had a plan: He got up, walked across the room, straight up to Harry and…gagged him.

"First things first", he told Winston.

… … …

"It's not going to fit. Too bad."

"Draw in your stomach, Harry and hold your breath, or it'll be the last breath you've ever taken." Guerrero pulled at the zipper. "See, fits perfectly."

Harry looked so miserably in the turquoise evening gown, Winston decided it was time for a little pep talk. "Now, Harry, I want you to go out there and blow them off their feet. You're going to give them all you've got and make us proud."

"But I hate dancing!"

"Don't look at it as _dancing,_ Harry, look at it as _fighting for your life to music_." Guerrero had a way of putting things.

As Harry staggered out on the stage, Winston doubtfully looked at Guerrero. "Maybe we should've let you handle this?"

Guerrero snorted. "Hate dancing, too, dude."

… … …

"This might be a stupid question, but did you try wiggling the handle?"

"Yes, Harry, this is a stupid question", Winston hissed through clenched teeth while balancing Guerrero on his shoulders who was trying to loosen a panel in the ceiling.

Time was running out. And the damn panel wasn't moving an inch.

Just as Winston was getting a little desperate, the door swung open.

Chance.

"Don't tell me none of you has tried wriggling the handle!"

… … …

"My leg doesn't bend that way!"

Winston hectically shook his head. "Don't say that! Don't you know the classic response to a sentence like that?"

Of course he didn't.

Guerrero's eyes lit up with an evil gleam as he scooted closer. "It'll only hurt badly for a moment, dude. After that it'll be dull pain. You'll make it through."

Chance interfered just in time. "I know you've been waiting for an opportunity like that the whole day, but let's discuss the other options first, okay?"

"Spoilsport", Guerrero muttered.

… … …

Harry's apartment was a surprise.

"Fast cars and loose women do not count as hobbies!", Harry lectured.

"But making teddy bears does?" Winston eyed a dark brown, rather overweight one with suspicion. Was that a tiny "W" stitched into its pullover?

"It's a skillful art!", Harry snapped, snatched the teddy away from Winston and put it back on the shelf, right between the slightly ferret-like one with the glasses and the light-haired one that looked so cute.

"Let's go and find this memory stick", Guerrero suggested.

When everybody else was busy looking, he took the cute bear and made it disappear in his pocket.

Maybe for his son…

… … …

"That's not what Baptiste said", Harry protested.

Everyone except him froze.

"Someone named Baptiste was here?", Chance inquired carefully.

"That's how he introduced himself, yeah. He left that parcel." Harry nodded towards the packet on the table.

It took them the better half of the afternoon to find out it neither contained a bomb nor body parts but the exact copy of the memory stick they had ordered. Apparently Guerrero's contact had a new errand boy.

… … …

"But it looked like it would float!", Harry tried to defend himself.

Well, the memory stick was back with his rightful owner, Harry's life was safe for now, none of them was gravely injured… what did it matter they were in the middle of an icy cold lake in Canada, around them nothing but landscape (was that a moose, grazing on the shore?), and their boat was slowly sinking?

… … …

Thank God the pilot of a small hydroplane had spotted them just in time. He even had blankets for them, and towels. Now all they had to do was free Winston of his handcuffs before anyone noticed.

"Do you have a paperclip? I can fix it if you have a paperclip", Harry was practically bouncing on his seat with eagerness to prove himself.

"Give it to me first", Guerrero said. "I'd like to fix something, too."


End file.
